"I wanna watch," said my wife.
"Pardon?" I asked confusedly.
"You know what I mean...," she pressed the issue. "I want to be there the next time you fuck Anita."
"Really?" I asked hesitantly. It's true that my wife had set me up with her girlfriend and had given her total blessing to our wild outings, but apart from the occasional hint with a smile on her face, she hadn't seemed to really care. And I, with playful ease, had gotten out of the whirlwind of everyday life with the all-consuming intoxication of feverishly wild sex. Once or twice a month I had done the favor of thoroughly satisfying all of Anita's desires. In addition to the hardcore pounding, I had gotten to regularly come up with something extra, some fetish thing, which had made her feel even more like my slut, and which had made her come a huge one every time.
On a tired Friday afternoon, I was so desperate to relieve stress that I showed up at Anita's after a quick call and fucked her face on the stairs leading to her living room. I didn't wait for her to take off her elegant woman's suit she wore from work, and I wasn't bothered by her make-up. I made her kneel down, taking a good look at her stockinged legs, but otherwise I didn't bother with her undressing, she looked perfect just how she got home from her office. I simply spread my thighs in front of her and pushed my cock all the way into her mouth. Holding the back of her head, I penetrated her mouth hard, with each movement I pulled her soft, saliva-dripping, lipstick-red lips up to my balls. I finally shot the semen that had accumulated for several days down her throat, not caring about her coughing and gasping for air. After the release, I took out my mobile phone without saying a word and took a photo of her face with smeared lipstick and runny eye shadow - even a drop of unswallowed semen turned white on the corner of her lip. "Do you think she's humiliated enough now?" I texted the photo to my wife while walking out of Anita's apartment. Closing the door, I could still see my hostess leaning against the wall, masturbating heavily on the stairs with her eyes closed.
There were mornings when either the Moon or some TV show the night before woke me up so horny and with dirty thoughts in my mind that I simply drove to Anita's house without any sign-in and burst through the door. Erik was not home for a long time, Anita was peacefully drinking coffee in the dining room and scrolling through Instagram. I sat down on the dining table, took the coffee cup from his hand and sipped the lukewarm coffee.
Ignoring her wondering gaze, I pushed down my pants, raised my legs and pulled her head to my bottom without any instructions. She looked at me with her eyes wide open, but then obediently leaned between my buttocks and began to lick my asshole deeply and sensually. I put her hand on my cock, made her jerk me off hard, and when my lover's tongue penetrated deep into my ass after a few minutes, I was already coming. I picked up the coffee mug again, held it to the head of my cock, and let in a good amount of fresh sperm. It was quite an interesting sight as the white drops mixed with the rest of the frothy coffee at the bottom.
Satisfied, I pulled the pants back on myself, then pressed the mug into the hands of the still surprised Anita. Looking back on the way out, I still saw her greedily spooning the lukewarm mixture from it.
But I loved the evenings when we arranged a date in advance the most. At those times, my dear wife was already asking me all day what I was going to do with her girlfriend, and she even gave me ideas, while eagerly texting her. She specifically got used to dressing me up elegantly for such occasions, in fact, we made a lot of love a couple of times at the end of such preparations. I didn't know if Erik was also so enthusiastic about preparing Anita for our occasions, but his sparkling eyes when he opened the door were quite revealing.
On one of the horniest occasions, I took Anita to the cinema. I can't recall much of the film, because during the screening I casually fingered her dripping pussy. She came twice, and I had to cover her mouth so that his pleasure wouldn't be too loud. After the movie, we barely got into the car in the underground garage, she already pushed down her panties, held her freshly done hair back, using it as a rubber band, and immediately started sucking me off. I made her kneel onto the passenger's seat, in case anyone saw her from the side bobbing in my lap without underwear. Fortunately(?) we were standing in a secluded place, no one really went there, but the public setting undoubtedly increased our excitement a lot.
I took advantage of the opportunity and thoroughly fucked my wife's best friend in the ass that evening. The car shook violently the whole time, but no one said a word, not even the security guard sitting at the barrier, when I drove out with the completely satisfied and quiet Anita.
I didn't hear from them for weeks after that. I thought maybe I had gone too far, gone beyond all limits with my unbridled desire. Or maybe that was enough and the couple found each other again, they are just pretty much fine with their own intimacy.
Now my wife was standing in front of me with her hands on her hips and brought up the subject again.
"Well...," I nodded. "What exactly do you want to see?"
"What is it that she likes so much. Because she always texts me how good it was, how hard you fucked her, and how fulfilled she feels after..."
"Really?"
"Of course!"
"Everything? All the positions?"
"Maybe not all of them, but the point is that now I'm curious how you take care of my dear friend! How can you satisfy her so much? And of course, maybe I'll try it too..." she wandered with a mischievous smile.
"So you also want a good old hardcore pounding?" I grabbed her bottom and pressed a kiss on her cheek. Dia pulled away with her usual innocent expression, but I could still see the smirk on her face.
We managed to organize the meeting for the weekend. Incredibly enough, everyone was free for that, and even Erik asked to join the séance. I wondered several times what I should do in order to satisfy the curiosity of both my wife and Erik, and at the same time to satisfy Anita's greedy hunger. I wrote down a few ideas from the internet, but mostly I relied on my intuition. If things have worked out so far, it shouldn't be too bad.
Despite all this, we entered the doors of our hosts with some excitement. Erik greeted us with a red face and escorted us into the living room, where Anita was sitting cross-legged on the couch. Her short, fringed pants barely covered the lines of her curvaceous bottom, but her long, brown thighs already bloomed invitingly on the gray upholstery of the couch. The sight made my cock twitch, recalling those intense occasions when those thighs had been wrapped around my ears or just around my waist. In addition, even her feet were bare, which made the sight of her legs even more sexy. I'd never considered myself a foot fetishist, but somehow I always found it more exciting when Anita's amazing legs were not covered by socks or stockings - even if she was wearing high heels.
Moreover, she was wearing a thin pink top with spaghetti straps over the short jeans, without a bra, and the sunlight shining into the room perfectly outlined her nipples under the dress.
These all made me horny for her, obviously. Besides, we hadn't even had a chance to have sex since my wife proposed the idea, so the accumulated energy made my blood boil wildly. I would have preferred to step to her head immediately, run my hands into her hair and pull her lips onto my cock. But out of consideration for her husband and, of course, my wife, I restrained myself this time and simply sat next to her on the couch. Erik and Dia also took a seat in an armchair each, visibly confused.
"Shall we?" I pointed to the champagne on the coffee table, chilled in an ice bucket, next to Erik's beer, which he had been sipping so far.
"Of course," Erik cleared his throat and jumped up like a decent host. "I've been drinking beer so far, but we can switch to that..."
He uncorked the champagne with careful movements, the popping of the cork eliciting the usual giggles from everyone. But while he was pouring into our glasses, my hand wandered to Anita's bare legs and, grinning, I stroked her thighs. And when I took my glass from her husband, I still kept my hand on the woman's leg, openly enjoying the warmth of her skin. I saw the confusion in Erik's eyes, but he didn't say anything, he just silently sat back in the armchair and took a sip of his champagne without any toas.
